


Mistakes

by Notatracer



Category: Street Kings
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notatracer/pseuds/Notatracer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a few times in the life of any man, more so for those who worked in our precinct, when he knows in his gut that he's only a few moments away from being on the receiving end of some serious hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistakes

"Is what Wander said true, Captain?"

"You want to know if I like getting my dick sucked by men? Want to know if I go home at night and think about you while jerking off?"

"I-"

"Don't flatter yourself, son. _If_ any of that was true, you can rest assured that I wouldn't spend my time sniffing around some loose canon with a single, dumb expression and a death wish. However, I could fuck you over this desk if I wanted because I own your ass and you owe me big. But, that would be terribly hypocritical of me, wouldn't it? Go take some complaints or file some papers or stare off into space - something. Go!"

"Yes ... sir ..."

* * *

Friday night: 2 a.m. If nothing else, the boy was punctual. He was there at the same time every week. I could set my watch to him. Unlike his predecessor, he seemed to know what was in his best interests. He agreed to always be on time to our once-a-week meetings and to never hustle on anyone else's beat. I agreed to look the other way when I saw him on a street corner or on his knees behind a dumpster.

He sat in the passenger seat of the unmarked patrol car. His dark face was obscured by his even darker hair. I slid one hand under his chin, thumb briefly sliding along his lips.

"Whoring is a dangerous profession. Someone's going to fuck up that pretty face of yours - right before they dump your broken body in a gutter on skid row. I'm sure you make enough out here to afford community college. You should do yourself a favor before you wind up dead."

"Why do you care?"

"Who said I cared? I was stating a fact. It would be a shame to lose such a talented mouth. But, if you gave up your night job, we'd have no reason for these little visits."

I shifted my lanky frame, trying to make myself as comfortable as I possibly could in the driver's seat of the Crown Vic. The boy quickly went to work and soon had his face buried in my lap. I closed my eyes and let my head drop back against the seat as I threaded my fingers through his hair. I needed these few, brief moments of peace more than anything.

It had been another typical night of being spat at and called every name in the book. No one trusts the police or their neighbors anymore. I can't say I exactly blame them, but I'd rather not be the target of their aggression. One cop's just as dirty as the next in their eyes. Guilt by association, thy name is LAPD. The occasional head from a street trick pales in comparison to the things that regularly go on amongst the so-called "brotherhood."

I should be able to find some refuge at home, but home has its own set of barricades to peace. My wife's latest addition to the long list of things I do wrong is wiping my hands on the guest towels. It doesn't sound like much, but apparently it was a grave enough offense to warrant a soap dish being thrown at my head this morning. She used to be a lovely woman, but ever since she's been trying to get pregnant, things have been going downhill. In all honesty, I'm apathetic to her plight. I make my scheduled deposit and if it takes, it takes - if not, oh well. It'll be a wonder if we both survive this ordeal.

I've heard it on good authority that there's a promotion in the near future. The plan is to get promoted, transfer permanently to the PSB, and put a bun in the oven to make the missus happy. Get off the streets and restore tranquility at home. Dealing primarily with cops can't possibly be as dangerous as walking into crack houses.

I lose myself in my thoughts ... in the sounds and the feel of his warm, wet mouth.

My damp cock twitched as the boy suddenly lifted his head.

"Mm, Christ, don't stop."

I opened my eyes when he didn't respond. My stomach dropped as my gaze fell on the large fingers tapping on the window. Had he been quietly watching or had I somehow been so oblivious that I didn't hear his tapping? I tucked myself back in while rapidly trying to think of some way out of this mess. As I opened the door, I glanced back at the wide-eyed boy.

"Stay in the car."

* * *

There are a few times in the life of any man, more so for those who worked in our precinct, when he knows in his gut that he's only a few moments away from being on the receiving end of some serious hurt. I'd never been so sure of it than when Tom Ludlow fell into step behind me while crossing the parking lot. He was a dangerous man - irrationally violent. Probably needed to be on several types of medication. I'd seen reports of him assaulting other officers with no provocation. That's not even counting the aftermath I've seen of some of the things he's done recently. Now he's gotten it into his head that I had some interest in him. Without the case to dwell on, he's got all the time in the world to roll that thought around. Damn Wander to hell. There's no telling what a man like Ludlow was liable to do with that information. I quickened my pace, hoping to reach my car in time to never let on that I knew he was following me. I vowed that the next day I'd work on getting him transferred as far away as possible. He'd served his purpose to the department. It was well past time for this walking liability to be someone else's problem.

"Captain Biggs."

I stopped and heaved a huge sigh. I schooled my features to simply annoyed before I turned.

"Go home, Ludlow."

"I need to talk to you, Captain."

"I'm sure whatever it is can wait until tomorrow."

"No. It can't."

He quickly closed the few steps between us. Countless images of the various ways I was sure he was going to attack me flashed into my mind all at once. My fingers edged slightly toward my gun.

"It'll have to wait, because I-"

At that moment, his liquor-flavored mouth was on mine. It was awkward, ill-angled, and probably the worst kiss I'd ever received. He pulled away, staring at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.

"What?"

"I had noticed the way you looked at me. I ignored it, but after ... everything ... I don't care."

He leaned in again, this time kissing with a more passionate intent. He nipped my lower lip as he pulled away for the second time.

"We can't."

"Why? Because it's against the rules? In case you hadn't noticed, I don't really give two fucks about the rules. Plus, I'm sure I've done far worse in some of my undercover jobs than what's been going on in your imagination. You said I owe you, and I don't leave debts unpaid."

* * *

"Jesus, Biggs, what would the Captain say? You can kiss that promotion good bye. And, does your wife know you have a taste for this kind of thing? Does she?"

"No, of course not. And, I don't see-"

I was interrupted by the passenger door slamming. I turned in time to see the boy running off into the night.

"Fuck."

"Oh, you lost your little whore."

"I don't see why she has to ever find out. Or, the Captain. Or, anyone. You're the only one who knows, Jack."

"You're right, Jimmy. And, you know, I'm going to do you a favor."

He gave me a smarmy, pseudo-thoughtful expression and started shaking his finger at me as if he had some great idea. Sometimes I wanted to break that finger off.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but you're going to do me a favor in return. I want money."

"Fuck off. You know things are tight right now, and there's going to be a baby on the way soonish."

"I don't care."

"I'm not giving you anything."

"I'll go to your wife."

"She's never liked you."

"I'll go to the Captain or anyone else who will listen."

"Where's your proof?"

"Oh, I have proof."

"Prove it."

"You want me to prove my proof? I don't have to prove anything to you. I can ruin you."

"You think anyone would give a shit? Maybe if I was beating the kid while someone was video taping it. Go ahead, this might help speed up my transfer. The sooner I never have to see you again, the better."

"You're not a team player, Biggs. You hurt the unit."

"Pretty soon I'm not going to be a part of your unit."

"Maybe sooner than you think."

"Are you threatening me? Why are you out here, anyway? Get your rocks off by watching?"

He didn't say anything in reply, only shook his finger one last time before walking back to his car. I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. Why tonight?

* * *

Looking down at Ludlow's sleeping form, it was easy to forget what he's like while awake.

This was a mistake.

We can't ever do this again.

I want him more than ever before.

I fear he may become an obsession - an addiction.

I desperately needed a cigarette. Gum just wasn't going to cut it.

I gingerly pulled my t-shirt back on, wincing as my hand brushed my side. Bruises were already starting to form along my ribs. My other shirt was a lost cause - most of the buttons were scattered across the motel room's dingy floor. I couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened to my tie.

 

The door had barely closed before he had begun to tear at my shirt. I stopped questioning why he was doing this long before he had shoved me onto the bed, grinding his hips down hard. In hindsight, it was probably all part of some power trip. So much had been out of his control recently. Who can blame him for getting off on the idea of having a superior officer wriggling beneath him?

He was rough and demanding - shoving and hitting to the point where it felt more like we were fighting. Maybe we were. I'd push at his shoulders, he'd punch me in the side. I'd call him a son of bitch, he'd call me a fucking cock sucker. My fingers dug into his skin and pulled at his hair as he thrust deeper and deeper into me. If my legs would tremble and slip, he'd forcibly push them back up again. It was quick and brutal and fucking amazing.

Only afterward did we kiss. Once. Then, he fell asleep and I was left to decide if I wanted to shower there or at home. I opted to take my chances at home. I didn't want to stay any longer than necessary.

As I stepped out into the brisk night air, lighting one of Ludlow's cigarettes, I wondered if I should go ahead with the plan of getting him transferred to someplace where I'd never have to see him again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (written April 2008)


End file.
